#((succeeded with... acceptable coherency!))

[aceofwands]

idk man I just think of all the franchises you could try to make the Next Big Thing by creating a bunch of new shows and movies, maybe don't pick the one with the notoriously nitpicky obsessed with canon fandom ?? if you don't plan on applying any sort of consistency to the world, characters, alien cultures, entire ethical and moral framework of the universe, etc etc ????

[goldendivinewrath]

@full-of-mercy

Vash doesn't feel like he can breathe in that short eternity of stillness and eye contact and not being certain, his chest and his lungs feeling squeezed too tight to expand. Wondering, taking in signs and tells and still not being sure of what he's seeing, of what the result is going to be, what he might have to say in order to dismiss or explain or retreat--

That squeak, the one he inadvertently makes when he's moved seemingly without thought or effort -- moved closer and quickly and it's nothing that he could have predicted or found need or desire to argue against -- would be absolutely mortifying if he were of any mind to process the fact that he'd made that sound in the first place. It's distant background noise at best, along with every thought in his head; Vash can't entirely process the reality that he's been vehemently pulled in instead of pushed away.

He actually manages to process a whole lot less when the ticklish-warm-sharp-good touch ripples over his skin and immediately deeper, looking at the man beneath him, watching exactly what he's doing and still needing extra time for the physical sensation and the rest of his scattered mind to catch up to one another. Bright, bright blue-green-aqua-teal eyes, glowing ring slowly getting overcome by expanding black, peer down in a way that's almost predatory, breath shallow and fast.

The information given takes another moment or two for sinking in, to understand, and by then-- There aren't words in response. Language ceases to exist altogether in a guttural moan of anticipation, fully realizing intention. The sound only seems to be echoed by a resonance that is rapidly pulsing instead of remaining a steady vibration, matching his heartbeat and the as-of-yet barely present rocking of his hips. He feels like he could shake himself apart on the atomic level if he goes much further, and that being a fully coherent thought in a choppy ocean of sensation almost gets him to spare breath to laugh.

Vash can't do much more than wheeze in a stilted breath when wet heat overwhelms everything else, something about the fact that Wolfwood's humming almost feels like it answers his own pulsing resonance enhancing the electric rush of pleasure. Tempted as he might be (if he could speak) to insist it's too much, it's not. It's not. It's just more than he's used to, more than he's experienced before, more than he possibly could have expected.

He wants to-- He doesn't know. Warn? He can feel it, like a coiled spring slowly unwinding, releasing one kind of tension in favor winding up another; the bud is opening under the wet heat and the idea of more, and it's just a spiral after that. The more the petals fill and part, open, the more he feels, the more his body responds, the more -- slick? nectar? -- he releases, and maybe that's something that could use a verbal warning, but being a little past the point of caring most certainly counts as successfully not thinking. He's opening, blooming, more soft-slick-sensitive surfaces to benefit from the attention, and he barely even hears the shaky moan coming from his own panting mouth.

He's got to-- Got to-- Vash moves, tips forward a little more, pays absolutely no mind to which hand is trying to support against the mattress and which is reaching. Just to touch, not to force, not to drive, though he can't be sure how hard he might be failing. He tries, tries, not to let any of Wolfwood's hair get caught in his prosthetic, because the joints fit tightly, it's perfectly engineered, but he can't tell what's happening when he's trying not to let his fingers clench down too hard but his hips are completely and absolutely a lost cause as they jump forward without rhythm, and he'll just have to apologize later.

And still, still, through hazy thoughts and slightly hazy vision, he attempts to keep an eye on Wolfwood, because saying he can hold his breath and being more durable than a standard run-of-the-mill human being are certainly pieces of knowledge that Vash has, but making sure they're all very true is another thing. And maybe... maybe... watching is really like its very own drug. Coveted. Wanted in ways and with a strength that he can only admit to himself behind a wall of not thinking at all.

Laughter is good. It feels like a thread of tension has broken, and like the occasional too-tight rubber band Nicholas wears around his wrists, its snap is liberating. A touch of adrenaline mingles with relief, spiraling through his reckoning, and it really is for the better that he is both on his back and held captive between strong thighs. Otherwise, with the fluttery feeling that vaults between his stomach and his ribcage, he might well float away.

Laughter spools out into a purring groan, though he cannot manage the same pitch and timbre of Vash's preternatural resonance. It does not stop him trying, low enough to vibrate - although that might just be the creak of the cheap mattress underneath them as they adjust, unmistakable with the intimate gravity he no longer resists rocking into. Once, twice, press-grind, abdomen cording, stark in the skew of pale linen. His ribs expand against the pressure of squeezing knees, still perfectly capable of breathing, of moving. He could topple them over, could rearrange their orientation with ease, but he does not. Instead he grips Vash's waist, kneading his thumbs over the changing textures of unbroken flesh and smooth-silvery scar over rippled strength. Fearless. Wondering.

Because of course he has wondered.

He can lie expertly to himself, but he cannot lie about this.

They have lived more or less in one another's skin for years now, one way or another. On the road, on Angelina, on transports, in tiny cramped rooms, in shared beds, out in the wilderness. Close proximity has become a source of comfort as much as it can spur irritation, bickering that has become something of a second (third, fourth) language, a sort of unspoken affection along with every excuse for casual touch. Stitching wounds, cleaning up after gunfights, tending hurts… they have seen one another in the nude.

Wolfwood has looked, curious but never daring to pursue or presume until now. Until this overt welcome. Clear signs. Signs even he cannot ignore, cannot help but answer, because they have pulled on a thread of want he could only imagine on lonely nights and with a scrap of stolen clothing, pining away between the pillars of guilt and longing.

Everything outside of this space has ceased to exist.

There is only this.

Steady, swift, he drops his hands to assist peeling leather away, flicking buckles open and pulling zippers to free Vash from his ridiculous gunslinger's attire. The notion of quick-release like Punisher's bindings comes to mind, flickering in and out, stashed for later.

Maybe.

When he looks down, when he arrests his own urge to flee, Vash finds Wolfwood staring.

Lips parted, rounded, kiss-swollen, as he observes, as he breathes slow and deep, scenting like a beast, tongue curled against the backs of his incisors. Too pink, the seam, but sheened, promising, enough to inspire a dull throb as his hips tic-twitch against nothing. The color rides high on his cheeks, and his eyes are blown so dark that his pupils swallow his irises.

He, too, must swallow.

Meeting eye contact with Vash flares heat lightning down his spine, an aching jolt, a pang of hunger. His nostrils flare.

And then without hesitation, without warning, he hooks his forearms under, grips buttocks, and pulls, leveraging the slippery coverlet and the breadth of his own torso to yank Vash toward his chest. Further. Closer. Gaze held, he tilts his face left and right, brushing the stubble of his jaw and cheeks to inner thighs. Closer, closer. Nearer. Kisses follow, methodical against old wounds and unblemished skin, against his own impatience. Nicholas endeavors to make it quite clear just where his destination lies.

A nuzzle to the crease of thigh and pelvis, the arch of his nose wedged in tight, inhale-exhale, humid and hot.

"I can hold my breath a long time," he thrums, low and carnal and utterly enamored, pressing a kiss to the pad below Vash's navel with another deep, deep inhale. "Do what comes natural."

A graze of teeth - gentle, gentle - before he cranes his neck and tips his chin, mouth blooming open to fit fearlessly over Vash's sex. Tongue curling zig-zag, stroking from seam to bud and back with a rush of saliva, he echoes their earlier mauling in slow-motion, all with an abiding hum.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Life Cycle

Erik Erikson’s 8 stages of the life cycle

Normative Crisis — Age — Major Characteristics

Trust vs. Mistrust — 0 to 1 — Primary social interaction with mothering caretaker; oral concerns; trust or mistrust in life-sustaining care, including feeding.

Autonomy vs. Shame and Doubt — 1 to 2 — Primary social interaction with parents; toilet training; beginnings of autonomous will.

Initiative vs. Guilt — 3 to 5 — Primary social interaction with nuclear family; beginnings of oedipal feelings; development of conscience to govern initiative.

Industry vs. Inferiority — 6 to puberty — Primary social interaction outside home among peers and teachers; school-age assessment of task ability.

Identity vs. Role Confusion — Adolescence — Primary social interaction with peers, culminating in heterosexual friendship; psychological moratorium from adult commitments; identity crisis; consolidation of resolutions of previous 4 stages into coherent sense of self.

Intimacy vs. Isolation — Early adulthood — Primary social interaction in intimate relationship (usually opposite sex); adult role commitments accepted, including commitment to another person.

Generativity vs. Stagnation — Middle adulthood — Primary social concern in establishing and guiding succeeding generation; productivity and creativity.

Ego Integrity vs. Despair — Late adulthood — Primary social concern is reflective: coming to terms with one’s place in the nearly complete life cycle, and with one’s relationships with others.

Erikson’s theory is called a psycho-self-reflexive, contextual process of finding and making meaning in the world.

It is not in conflict with scientific knowledge because, on the hermeneutic account, all psychological knowledge is concerned with this sort of understanding of our world (Verstehen), and not about explaining the universal laws of nature.

His theory charted changes in personality over the entire life cycle, rather than focusing on the early childhood years as critical to all later personality functioning.

Erikson proposed 8 stages of human development, each with its own normative crisis, by which he meant not a debilitating conflict, but rather a period of heightened vulnerability and potential.

He viewed human development as occurring in orderly stages, each with its own special characteristics and its own particular age relationship.

The stages always occur in a particular order and cannot be skipped.

His stages illustrate what Erikson termed the epigenetic principle.

Briefly stated, this principle proposes that critical elements of human personality have a ground plan from which they grow, similar to the physical growth principle by which the undifferentiated cells of embryos develop in orderly ways into organ systems. Thus, all human beings will face the normative crisis of trust versus mistrust in the period of infancy.

The resolution of this crisis leaves the infant with an abiding sense of either trust or mistrust that will become part of later personality functioning.

Each stage builds upon what has gone before and carries elements of itself into future stages.

Erikson’s contributions to psychology, particularly to the study of personality, can be divided into 4 major areas:

His emphasis on the importance of the entire life cycle in personality change

The psychosocial origins of personality

The centrality of self-identity in personality development

The importance of life histories for personality study

Source: Hopkins (1983, p. 74), adapted from Erikson (1968) ⚜ Psychology

[haggishlyhagging]

Radical feminism remained the hegemonic tendency within the women's liberation movement until 1973 when cultural feminism began to cohere and challenge its dominance. After 1975, a year of internecine conflicts between radical and cultural feminists, cultural feminism eclipsed radical feminism as the dominant tendency within the women's liberation movement, and, as a consequence, liberal feminism became the recognized voice of the women's movement.

As the preceding chapters have shown, there were prefigurings of cultural feminism within radical feminism, especially by 1970. This nascent cultural feminism, which was sometimes termed ‘female cultural nationalism’ by its critics, was assailed by radical and left feminists alike. For instance, in the December 1970 issue of Everywoman, Ann Fury warned feminists against "retreating into a female culture":

“Like other oppressed [sic], we have our customs and language. But this culture, designed to create the illusion of autonomy, merely indicates fear. Withdraw into it and we take our slavery with us. . . . Furthermore when we retreat into our culture we cover our political tracks with moralism. We say our culture is somehow "better" than male culture. And we trace this supposed superiority to our innate nature, for if we attributed it to our powerlessness, we would have to agree to its dissolution the moment we seize control. . . . When we obtain power, we will take on the characteristics of the powerful. . . . We are not the Chosen people.”

Similarly, in a May 1970 article on the women's liberation movement in Britain, Juliet Mitchell and Rosalind Delmar contended:

“Re-valuations of feminine attributes accept the results of an exploitative situation by endorsing its concepts. The effects of oppression do not become the manifestations of liberation by changing values, or, for that matter, by changing oneself—but only by challenging the social structure that gives rise to those values in the first place.”

And in April 1970, the Bay Area paper It Ain't Me, Babe carried an editorial urging feminists to create a culture which would foster resistance rather than serve as a sanctuary from patriarchy:

“It is extremely oppressive for us to function in a culture where ideas are male oriented and definitions are male controlled. . . .Yet the creation of a woman's culture must in no way be separated from the political struggles of women for liberation. . . . Our culture cannot be the carving of an enclave in which we can bear the status quo more easily—rather it must crystallize the dreams that will strengthen our rebellion.”

But these warnings had little effect as the movement seemed to drift almost ineluctably toward cultural feminism. Cultural feminism seemed a solution to the movement's impasse—both its schisms and its lack of direction. Whereas parts of the radical feminist movement had become paralyzed by political purism, or what Robin Morgan called "failure vanguardism," cultural feminists promised that constructive changes could be achieved. To cultural feminists, alternative women's institutions represented, in Morgan's words, "concrete moves towards self determination and power" for women. Equally important, cultural feminism with its insistence upon women's essential sameness to each other and their fundamental difference from men seemed to many a way to unify a movement that by 1973 was highly schismatic. In fact, cultural feminism succeeded in large measure because it promised an end to the gay-straight split. Cultural feminism modified lesbian-feminism so that male values rather than men were vilified and female bonding rather than lesbianism was valorized, thus making it acceptable to heterosexual feminists.

Of course, by 1973 the women's movement was also facing a formidable backlash—one which may have been orchestrated by the male-dominated New Right, but was hardly lacking in female support. It is probably not coincidental that cultural feminism emerged at a time of backlash. Even if women's political, economic, and social gains were reversed, cultural feminism held out the possibility that women could build a culture, a space, uncontaminated by patriarchy. Morgan described women's art and spirituality as "the lifeblood for our survival" and maintained that “resilient cultures have kept oppressed groups alive even when economic analyses and revolutionary strategy fizzled.” There may even have been the hope that by invoking commonly held assumptions about women and men, anti-feminist women might experience a change of heart and join their ranks. The shift toward cultural feminism also suggests that feminists themselves were not immune to the growing conservatism of the period. Certainly, cultural feminism's demonization of the left seemed largely rooted in a rejection of the '60s radicalism out of which radical feminism evolved.

-Alice Echols, Daring to Be Bad: Radical Feminism in America: 1967-75

[bichaels]

so, what's "not my shadow"?

ive been talking about it on my blog (and sideblog @notmyshadow) for a while now, but i recognize that i havent even shared the gist of it on tumblr in any coherent manner.

its a dtl fic ive been simmering for a while. it deals a lot with facing the present after being fixated in the past (especially trying to let that past go), grieving and regretting what's alive, beholding and glorifying what's dead, - that's a few themes, im sure i'll subconsciously incorporate more as i go.

basically, circi survives the giant scribble monster's attack. she finds out her attempt to bring wilfre back succeeded, but it was shortlived because of his defeat in the wasteland. her finding out that wilfre is dead with no further instructions from him (like in tncwii) fills her with intense and nearly-fatal grief. she uses this emotion (via shadow, which isnt banished to the human realm) to concentrate itself into... wilfre.

but its not wilfre. its circi's perception of wilfre, the wilfre that she's idolized and loved for years.

eventually she must face the fact that the real wilfre is alive and changed, alive and fundamentally not the raposa she knew due to the shadow's negative influence on him.

how will she cope with her conflicting views - grieve the past forever or accept the present?

[chirpybirdy]

ok ok ok i gotta draft some index cards and then write out index cards and then arrange index cards

how does writing a fic longer than 3k work??? research so far states having a beat sheet allows you to:

view story in full

improve pacing, escalation, coherence

enables collaboration

there was other stuff but it was all save the cat bullshit lol no i do NOT want to write anything snyder would lol anyway i think those three were the goals of a beat sheet.

applying this to werewolf!eugene au below the cut:

view story in full: timelines? i need at least 2. the literal timeline and the moon phases.

improve pacing, escalation, coherence: werewolf au has 3 plot lines. Eugene becoming a werewolf, Snafu falling in love with a werewolf, and Eugene succeeding in making Snafu accept they are in love.

enables collaboration: sledgefu discord i just joined has a channel for sharing drafts... in general, it would just be very nice to, like not have my hand held for this, but get high fives once a day LOL

concerns: story is mostly eugene third person limited pov so far; however, two of the plot lines are driven by snafu's internal state and (natural for the society he's in) revulsion at loving a monster. i think im a strong enough writer to handle that, but i really dont want readers confused thinking snafu's hang-ups about dating a werewolf are unwarranted.

solution: possibly to add more snafu pov so we can see the parts of being a werewolf that eugene isn't conscious for but... i feel like it fits the show and eugene himself more to have sledgehammer himself observe and point out the atrocities and kind of by proxy forgive himself for what he does not know he's done. also, gore alert /// i feel like snafu feeding sledgehammer cooked flesh and giving him bones and teeth to crunch on hits harder if we only know by evidence and not experience that sledgehammer is 100% eating humans raw. it's also much more werewolfy!!! like, werewolves need amnesia imho.

god. i love writing this kind of story where the main points are hidden. what's it like being a werewolf? eugene doesn't know. what's happening in snafu's heart? eugene also doesn't know.

[spidermanifested]

this is not my usual type of post but ive been rotating some thoughts and i guess my blogs as good a place as any to get them organized. okay so this is basically my take on the entire discourse surrounding the "feminine (presumed cis lets be honest) women are uniquely oppressed for being feminine/making female characters quote unquote Less Feminine is antifeminist" thing. which i keep seeing come up. on this internet of ours

context being im a trans guy. grew up largely seen by others as female, probably, sort of. was about as far from a cishet womans feminine as you can imagine. not in a cool tomboy way. not in a way that society had a box for. and thats the thing, is that when you fail at gender, whether youre conscious of it or not, theres this extremely profound loneliness that comes with it. part of it was the autism but i made like 6 real-life friends total from ages 4 to 18 and there were no examples of anyone with an even remotely adjacent experience i could find in the media or irl. anytime a female character skirted a little too close to actual masculinity in a tv show or movie shed get that makeover eventually. i was bullied by both boys and girls but the girls who bullied me were uniformly very feminine.

and so i see people talking about how hard feminine women and girls have it, how the world hates them for being beautiful, and on the one hand its like okay, Misogyny Exists. thats not really refutable thats just the reality of it. society hates women. and as for eurocentric femininity specifically i understand its a hard tightrope to walk!!! you have to put on all these masks BUT make them seem natural, youre forced into these narrow boxes of acceptable behavior and appearance and desires, and if you under- or over-shoot then people get reminded the whole thing is a farce and get mad (often violently!) at YOU for it

........but then my thing is, that on one side of the tightrope, the "overperforming eurocentric femininity" side, the tradwife or girlboss or blonde bimbo side, theres an entire history of structural trope-crafting to break your fall, right. like its a shitty box but its the box society WANTS you to be in. they look at you and go "yep thats a woman. we dont like those but that sure is one". there are known social niches to carve out. theres a script.

on the unfeminine side theres just. nothing. its stone cold concrete down there. and apparently twitter would have you believe its actually that the "more masculine" somebody presumed female appears the more society respects them but that to me is the wildest and most nonsense take on the planet because if people see you as a woman or girl who has not taken the needed steps to justify your place as one of those things you might as well be an alien, or even a monster. theres no script at all. and i feel like this is one of the major experiences that trans and gnc people of every gender share-- god knows trans women get the brunt of the vitriol-- and from my knowledge a lot of nonwhite people too, and also fat and disabled people, like. there are SO many things that affect your ability to achieve even a fraction of success at this aspirational femininity.

ive had to see people for real make the argument that princess peach making an angry face is masculine. i think the most masculine woman anyone on twitter can imagine right now is like a businesswoman in a form-fitting pantsuit and light mascara. maybe the struggle of succeeding at femininity under patriarchy deserves exploration, ive seen plenty of coherent and reasonable points, its not without worth as a discussion. but i do not trust the general public with the topic without immediately sliding into bog standard gender policing and transphobia, and so in closing, when the mainstream feminist take on the whole thing seems to be "the more you perform the femininity expected of you the worse you have it", i get the sensation that nobody told me it was opposite day and im about to feel real silly

[allmydokkuns]

if there's anyone Mandarin-speaking bilingual active on here and still has spoons for MDZS, I have a bit of a linguistic question but not enough knowledge to find an answer myself that I'd appreciate some help with!

I know the fanon fix it courtesy name for Meng Yao being accepted into Lanling Jin is "Ziyao," as in the correct generational character "Zi-" to match Zixuan and Zixun, plus his birth name. Is there any reason he can't still have his birth name and a courtesy name specific to his generation? Same thing goes for Mo Xuanyu.

I've been trying to think of good names for them in a scenario where this does in fact happen but all I've found so far is

偿 cháng for MY bc JGS doesn't deserve paternal rights, which only makes sense if you're privy to the poly fixit that lives rent free in my head...

Unfortunately I've come up with nothing for MXY for now, mainly because there's a particular kind of resonance between character birth names, courtesy names and personal titles that's hard to balance correctly for anyone who doesn't have a lot of working knowledge of the original language.

Anyway if there's anyone out there who has some ideas, reblog/comment/tag me on this post because my brain ain't spitting up much rn. Much thanks. I also remember reading something by someone else talking about how Lanling Jin goes by generations when it comes to deciding names for male descendants and that the radicals in Lan Xichen's and Wangj's birth names seem to be aligning by design, but I don't have enough spoons to find characters that contain the "xu" sound while also having some kind of relevant meaning for both MY and MXY. So instead I tried to think of word characters with good connotations that would be used to name sons as if the two of them had been accepted into the family with good intentions, dunno if I succeeded. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯qq

((now the rest of this is just gonna be some thoughtvomit because what even is coherent sentences anymore, abrupt topic change bc my joints are too messed up to make a separate post))

Perhaps I'm misunderstanding traditional family dynamics, but there is no real reason for Lanling Jin to not accept both Meng Yao and Mo Xuanyu into Lanling Jin except for 1) as established, Jin Guangshan is a philandering rapist piece of shit that has absolutely no intentions of taking responsibility for his offspring and sexual proclivities, or 2) they're attempting to save face for the clan and trying to do the thing where if they do not acknowledge the existence of these children then the problem does not exist?

I understand that some people spin it as being Madame Jin's intolerance for these illegitimate sons given her abuse of Meng Yao after Zixuan's and Yanli's deaths in canon timeline, but that doesn't make a lot of sense to me given how little presence she has in the plot and sect since she married into Lanling Jin. Not saying her taking out negative emotions on someone who for all intents and purposes she should be treating kind of like her son is right, because abuse is still abuse, but other than that it seems her only purpose in the plot is to give Zixuan a mother, Yu Ziyuan a sworn sister, Jiang Yanli a mother-in-law, and Jin Guangyao someone else to hate in Lanling. She's not distinct enough to have a canonical name other than her title as Jin Guangshan's wife, and besides which, being the wife she has no real power to make any decisions regarding the family's heirs. Moxiang Tongxiu straight up set up Lanling Jin as the wealthiest sect after Qishan Wen falls and they just so happen to be the only sect with only one (1) child born of the sect leader and his wife? Sus. Legally everything would have been all well and good if JGS was forced somehow into legitimizing both his illegitimate sons (the sons specifically, since having an illegitimate daughter does your family no real good in a Confucian society unless you're going to marry her out for political purposes) and they were raised as they should have been, especially since both MY and MXY seem like intelligent people. Zixuan gets some backers, Madame Jin gets some more kids and JGS gets some concubines, everyone wins! Even the sect's line of succession is more secure if he suddenly gets two sons. In short, there were so many ways JGS could have taken control of this situation as the father and sect leader and spun it to somehow come out smelling more like roses BUT HE ACTIVELY? CHOSE to give absolutely no shits and just let his wife, kids and sect suffer the consequences of this particular paternal dysfunction. And we all know what happened because he gave too many unnecessary fucks where they were not needed :^) or consensual :^)))) fuck that guy honestly tbh.

Now granted that was a whole sidebar, and maybe I'm thinking about this too hard but does nobody else think it's weird that of the Great Sects, only the male characters in Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan have both canonical birth and courtesy names? It's almost like MXTX gave only the male characters most relevant to the story one of each honestly, since the only two exceptions that are coming to mind now are Su She (Minshan) and Xue Yang (Chengmei). Of course there is the argument that Wen Ning also has a courtesy name, but does it really count when no one uses it to refer to him? The naming stuff in this story are all over the place actually -- Jiang Cheng is the only sect leader of his generation that is referred to primarily by his birth name, but bc WWX is an unreliable narrator it's probably because he always called him that and somehow conveniently forgot he no longer had a right to call him that after he voluntarily left Yunmeng Jiang, therefore we as the audience also call him that... The fact that JC and WWX both seem to have courtesy names when they're kind of young for them, but that also goes for Lan Wangji. Neither the Nie brothers or Jin Zixuan have canonical alternate names, so either it wasn't very important to the plot (though it kind of is in Lanling after the Campaign when JGY gets legitimized but not really since it's the wrong generational character), but what's going on with Qinghe Nie's naming choices? This kind of inconsistency is fine if you handwave the whole thing about degrees of intimacy and formality and stuff but it gets funky if you stare at it long enough.

And that's not even scratching the surface of the weirdness surrounding the women in MDZS -- as few and shortlived as they are. Yu Ziyuan is the only wife of a sect leader in the named sects with a canonical name and title that isn't her married sect's clan + Madame, and the only one we see with any kind of sway both martially and in the everyday running of Yunmeng Jiang. Most importantly, she's the only woman in the series to have her own personal title! Also, again, sidebar, but Jiang Yanli choosing to go by Madame Jiang in fic instead of Young Madame Jin is a mood and a whole chef's kiss tbh. I think also in the kind of household I've been imagining her in after her marriage she could also be called "xiao-furen" (young Madame) where Madame Jin could also be properly called "lao-furen" (old Madame) to differentiate them according to subservient members of the household, in-house? That's a whole nother thing tho, in-group (household, sect, clan) versus outgroup (other sects or clans, and in some ways, your maiden clan if you married out).

Anyway. All of you writing Madame Yu as the root of all trouble in the Yunmeng Jiang family are being culturally insensitive and midkey misogynistic -- looping back to the discussion on JGS being a piece of shit father and sect leader, all his sect's family dysfunction is his inability to keep it in his pants and properly manage his paternal responsibility for the fruits thereof because in a Confucian setting, wives must obey husbands, sons must obey fathers, and both mother and son have therefore no power to override JGS's shitty parenting and leadership decisions re: powermongering and lack of legitimate heirs. Madame Yu's dissatisfaction with Jiang Fengmian's neglect of his only legitimate heir for some other person's son, even if that person's son is the current head disciple for the sect, is valid, because neglecting the next sect leader means neglecting the sect's future. Again, not saying her punishing WWX for stuff that he may or may not have done with Zidian was right. Wei Wuxian might be brilliant and talented and all that, but he doesn't have the right temperament to lead as a sect and clan must be led: with prudence, diplomacy and caution. Again, not WWX-bashing, but I think my favorite description of him goes something like "Wei Wuxian has never met a situation he didn't think couldn't be solved through escalation, and you all think Jiang Cheng is the emotional one?" Jiang Fengmian is an interesting contrast to both Jin Guangshan and Qingheng-jun in that he embodies the idea of physically there, but emotionally unavailable father, whereas JGS is maliciously neglectful and Qingheng-jun is practically non-existent. Granted we don't get a clear idea of how JFM is with JC outside of what that dynamic is like with WWX but I don't think very highly of a father who will scold the son that labored for who knows how many days to save his shixiong's life while praising said shixiong for something he didn't even accomplish alone in the same breath. It's the whole pattern of "ignore what Jiang Cheng accomplishes but lavish praise on Wei Wuxian who would have gotten into even bigger trouble if Jiang Cheng wasn't looking out for him too" that gets me with him. They're both children, you be the adult and sect leader they deserve and look past your biases against your wife (allegedly) and from your past (allegedly) to give them the tools they need to succeed together once you've kicked the bucket.

Is Madame Yu perfect? No, but I do think she loves her children and recognizes the responsibilities she has to Yunmeng Jiang, and she knows as a wife, mother, and fighter, that nothing she does or teaches or passes onto the children in her care means as much as the recognition and explicit support of her husband the sect leader. Jiang Fengmian's presence and legacy in the story is very faint. But Madame Yu? I see echoes of her in all three Yunmeng Jiang kids. But then I see her getting turned into the nagging wife stereotype and it makes me angry that the most developed female character in this story so often gets the short end of the stick in fanfic. Obviously I can't control what some of y'all write and there are some cultural/political nuances that exist in the story that a lot of the fan base may not be familiar with, so yeah I can understand why she gets watered down like that, like any other character in the story does and I'm not calling anybody out for it. But if some of y'all took one look at the so-called sect leaders in this story and immediately decided that it was their nagging, abusive hag of a wife that was the problem, I don't think we're reading/watching the same thing. Also, Wen Ruohan doesn't have a wife mentioned at all that I'm aware of and you could 100% argue that he's the root of most of the political BS that happens in the story, so do with that what you will.

Anyway I'm tired and my joints be protesting so I'm gonna call it a night. If you read this far, take a virtual cookie for making it all the way to here, thank you. If you're new to this hellsite and thought this was intriguing/interesting, reblog or comment and help a bitch out with some engagement, these posts take a lot out of me and if you'll remember, I did have some questions before the meta that I'd like to get out to the wider fan base. Likes don't do shit except make the OP feel like they're yelling into a vacuum. Y'all have a good one.

[griffincloud]

desire or nightmare for peachleaf :3

Sorry for not getting to this sooner ^^", I was busy and now I'm sick so I may not be super coherent in my rambling

So this will require a "brief" worldbuilding synopsis since Peachleaf is very much intertwined with the non-WC canon part of this WCOC story. But basically, there are basically 3 levels/tiers of existing (best wording I got): you're either alive, in limbo (sort of like The Dark Forest but not really? You don't go there if you're evil; described as "having a paw between being alive and dead" by Tuftbee), and fully dead/StarClan. Most cats go from living straight to being a StarClan cat upon dying, but if you for some reason have some form of "unfinished business" or cannot accept your death, you are now stuck in limbo. A spirit cannot leave this state once stuck there and this limbo state isn't good for the "health" of the spirit. The spirit will slowly become sick or "corrupted" by their feelings of hate and turmoil over their death; if enough time passes, the spirit will fully "corrupt" and become unrecognizable from their former selves. The speed at which this happens relies on how well the spirit keeps themselves at peace, but no spirit is immune from corrupting as spirits are naturally emotional creatures

Corrupted spirits are known to attack and kill the living. But the presence of non-corrupted spirits isn't good either; extended exposure to one unknowingly causes sickness and unexplained stress usually manifesting as anxiety or paranoia

This is where Shepherds come in. Shepherds are unique in the sense that they can see spirits (as cats cannot see spirits with the exception of corrupted spirits when they're about to be attacked by them/when the spirit shows themselves to the cat first) and are gifted the power to help spirits pass on and purify the corrupted spirits. Each Shepherd is born from the same family, descended from the first Shepherd's littermates as Floodfog never had kits of her own. When one Shepherd dies, the eldest kit of the next litter born after they pass will become the next one. Peachleaf is the 11th Shepherd, succeeding Icefern

Now, onto the actual questions...

Desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

To have a voice in the clans (whether that be by taking up a higher-ranking role or otherwise). This isn't a bad desire at all, but she still tries to word this to herself as just wanting to serve the clans and make them better in an attempt to be humble/coy. She doesn't like to draw much attention to herself paradoxically

She chooses to be a Medic since she genuinely wants to help other cats and that is something she feels strongly about, but being a well-respected member of her society is a plus to her. She tries to work hard and aid her leader and clanmates any way she can to earn or keep their respect, even if they already respect her because she's their family (by blood or not)

Nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

Peachleaf has nightmares about seeing her friends, family, and clanmates become corrupted spirits because that means she could not help them not only in life as a Medic but also not in death as a Shepherd. As for how she copes with the idea, I can't particularly go into that too much as that would be leaning into spoiler territory (which I would love to talk about with just mutuals if anyone is curious but it's maybe not the best idea to go into that too much publicly if I wanna turn this into a comic one day) but let's just say, she copes with it in ways that progress the plot. But she largely keeps these fears to herself as she feels it is her burden to bear (and has been sworn to secrecy by Tuftbee, her great-grandmother and the 8th Shepherd as she feels that's what you're supposed to do) but she does console in a select few cats about her duties and fear of failing those duties such as Sterletcurl, Ripplingbreeze, Sizzlingpond, Xanthiawing, and of course Tuftbee

Prompts List

[loverboy-cc]

True That Love in Withdrawal (Was The Weeping of Me)

Goro Akechi at his core is not a patient man. He can muster up patience should he need to for one reason or another, but it’s not as inherent to him as it is to someone such as Ren. In hindsight, he’d been set up. Ren knew exactly what he was doing with his little… Idea.

Hiiiii I spent so long on this lmao, if u want to read it on ao3 here it is!

Pairing: Akechi Goro/Akiren

Tags: Porn With Plot, Anal, Aphrodisiacs, Bets & Wagers, Light Orgasm Delay/Denial, Semi-Public Sex

WC: 3.8k :D

Goro Akechi at his core is not a patient man. He can muster up patience should he need to for one reason or another, but it’s not as inherent to him as it is to someone such as Ren. 

That lack of patience, or maybe a lack of foresight, currently has him hunched over his desk. Aggressively fisting his drooling and painfully hard cock.

In hindsight, he’d been set up.

Ren knew exactly what he was doing with his little… Idea.

“Goro.”

“Yes, Ren?”

Beautiful steel gray eyes he’s found himself adoring more and more, much to his own behest and a sweet, gentle smile. 

“I have an idea, and a prize for you if you’ll hear me out.”

Hook, line, and fucking sinker. Goro had stepped eagerly into the trap Ren laid out for him in the comfortable warmth of Leblanc. Lured in by the mere concept of a prize, because a prize means there’s competition. And Goro was keen on winning against Ren for once in his sad, shitty life.

Even then, when Ren actually explained his idea Goro was given the option to deny it. Given the… unstable nature of their current relationship. With Goro still reeling from his failure to execute the raven haired man that had been standing across from him, and said man ignoring the protests of literally a dozen people to seek him out. He should’ve walked away, or at least said no.

Coherent thought and Ren's existence in his life never went hand in hand, and that wasn’t about to change now.

He gasped and bit back a frankly pathetic whimper, technically he’d already lost. But Ren wouldn’t know that, he could chase his own satisfaction here and still get his prize.

“I’m going to put an aphrodisiac in your coffee and if you can last until you get off work I will do literally whatever you want.”

“I beg your pardon?”

They had barely been within 6 feet of each other since the incident. Goro had a hell of a time getting Ren's gray matter out of his uniform, and is still fighting to rid himself of the mental image of his lover’s rival's dead eyes looking up at him as his blood pooled around him on the cold metal table. Which made touching the object of his terror difficult, especially since a not insignificant part of him was convinced he was hallucinating and touching Ren would make him dissipate like it did every other hallucination of his.

“When you say anything, do you mean it?”

“Yes.”

“Then I accept your little challenge.”

The casual way Ren stated the idea should’ve been his first warning, and the sheer mirth that painted Ren's expression when he agreed should’ve been his second.

He leaned back and sighed, this clearly wasn’t going anywhere useful and his dick is starting to hurt in a much more unpleasant way than the dull ache of being unbearably horny.

He didn’t have a plan for what he was going to get Ren to do.

…

He’s spectacular at lying to people, years of being the detective prince taught him well. Lying to himself was a much more daunting task, and one that he rarely succeeded in.

He has plenty of things he had planned on asking Ren to do when he won. Ranging from licking his shoes and apologizing like the pathetic attic trash he is, all the way to pushing him against the bar in Leblanc and-

He hissed indignantly and forced himself to sit on his hands. He was not about to actually lose to Ren, nor acknowledge that for the first time this afternoon he’d been getting off properly. All because in his mind's eye the hands on him were Rens and not his own.

Loki cackled, the low scratchy noise filling his ears as the god taunted him. Mocking him with how 30 full minutes of jerking off did nothing but frustrate him, but mere seconds after he imagined Ren touching him he was teetering on the edge.

He could, theoretically, text Ren.

Was it still a loss if Ren- Yes.

God he hated himself, but he desperately needed to get some work done and in his current state that wasn’t an option. Explaining himself was also off the table based on how his voice evaded him whenever he tried to speak.

So, in a jarringly out of character moment of weakness, he closed his eyes and thought of Ren.

He came almost immediately, catching the majority in a napkin before tossing it into the little black trash can under his desk. Considering the bin for a moment before burying the object of his embarrassment a bit further into the paper, more so he doesn’t have to see it and be reminded of all of this than someone questioning why there was a particularly sticky napkin in his trash.

He realized a moment later that he is still extraordinarily hard, and that getting off didn’t help with his current situation. It arguably made it worse if he was honest with himself.

His attention snaps to his phone, the quiet buzz taunting him with possibilities. It could be Sae asking him about work, it could be Shido with a new list of names.

It could be Ren.

He hoped in no small part that it was the latter of the three, because then at least he has an excuse to talk to the man.

Ren: u doing ok?

Thank god. 

Goro: I’m doing perfectly fine, I’ve actually been able to get quite a bit of work done. Goro: I do hope you don’t value your dignity, I plan on taking full advantage of my prize.

The thought of taking Ren's dignity stirs a new warmth inside of him, the idea of taking the great and powerful leader of the Phantom Thieves down a notch or 10 stirring up a much more feral desire for the beautiful man.

Ren: Oh? Well I’m looking forward to whatever you have planned ;)

Cocky bastard, he much more eagerly palms at his arousal this time. Goro will enjoy wiping that stupid, smug, unbelievably hot smirk off his face-

The knock at his door sends him reeling and the weight of what he’s doing crashes down onto him as he hurriedly stuffs his dick back into his pants before shakily saying

“Yes? What do you need?” His voice wavers and he prays he doesn’t look as disheveled as he feels. Sae steps into his office wearing a frustrated expression that morphs quickly into concern at his state.

“I came to discuss another mental shutdown case, are you alright? No one has heard from you today and you’re flushed.”

Shit- fuck- oh dear god-

“Ah my apologies Sae-san, I’ve got a bit of a cold. I didn’t expect it to affect me this much.”

He takes on his princely persona with practiced ease, feigning his apology all too well.

“If that’s the case please go home and rest, I can take over for you today.”

It takes him every ounce of willpower not to cheer. 

“I appreciate it Sae-san, next time we get sushi let me cover it as thanks alright?”

She nods and removes herself from his office, and he’s never left the station faster in his life. The train ride to Yongen-Jaya feels endless and a small part of him prays that Ren is there and not busy, after all it is 3pm on a Sunday.

Doubt settles in his mind, what if he was busy? Goro wasn’t sure if he could physically handle not immediately leaping into the arms of the man already, the thought of Ren's body pressed against his own being a feeling he misses far more than he’d ever admit. But having got the blessing of Sae letting him leave early only to be forced to wait anyway? 

The thought doesn’t get the opportunity to linger as he steps off the train, only to come face to face with the man who’d been invading his mind all afternoon.

“Good timing, I was going to come see you.”

Goro ignores the way his heart leaps.

“Oh? What for?”

He does his best to keep his princely mask up, but it’s always harder when it’s Ren, and with the memories of his fantasies still all too fresh in his mind it’s difficult to look the man in the eye.

“I wanted to see how you were doing, you clearly were lying when you texted me.”

“Ah… I suppose you’ve caught me.”

The proud little smirk on Ren's face doesn’t go unnoticed, and Goro raised an eyebrow.

“Oh I didn’t actually know if you’d been lying, I had a hunch you had because it’s you , but thank you for confirming it.”

Goro doesn’t really have time to reply before Ren takes his hand and drags him away. The single point of contact somehow sets his entire body on fire as Ren pulls him along. Had he been able to pay attention he would’ve recognized the path to Leblanc, but his entire focus was pinned on the firm grip Ren held on him, the warmth of his flesh managing to seep through his gloves. What he wouldn’t give to feel those hand on-

The soft jingle of the bells on the door of cafe Leblanc ripped him from his thoughts, with Sojiro nowhere to be found.

It would settle into his head much later that Ren had planned this too, but for now all he could feel was the soft lips on his and the fire under his skin as he pulled Ren closer, long past the point of no return. Something deep inside him wanted to run, to abandon this entire day and curl up in bed with featherman reruns until he could haul himself back onto his feet and into work.

That idea was thoroughly squashed when Ren pushed him against the door, the entrance bells jingling lightly as they collided again. Goro let himself grind against Ren, melting into the low growl it ripped from his chest. There’s little he wouldn’t do in this moment to get more out of Ren, more noises, more touch, anything Ren could give him he’d take with open arms.

He doesn’t need to wait long. 

Ren breaks the kiss and Goro finds himself chasing his lips, craving the touch, but all Ren does is smirk and grab his tie. Dragging him up the stairs into the attic as he spoke.

“I heard from a little birdie that you lost and didn’t plan on telling me. I knew you feel the need to win every game you play but I didn’t expect the noble detective prince to stoop to cheating.”

His title hits him like a slap in the face and he valiantly fights the urge to fall for the bait, the suddenness of the words shocking him into a moment of clarity. Ren wanted him to react, it’s the only time he called him that.

Goro is on a losing streak today.

“A little bird? So you had Sakura-chan do your dirty work for you, how pathetic.” The words fly out of his mouth with a harsh sneer and the glee that paints Ren's face makes Goro a special kind of nervous. He steels his crimson gaze and prays to any deity that will listen that he didn’t just obliterate his chance to get closer to the Phantom Thieves infamous leader.

“I may have, but you’re the one who gave her something to find.” 

He’s not sure when he landed on Ren's bed, nor when the lithe man made himself comfortable between his thighs, but he was aware of it now. With Ren kissing him harshly, aggressive and open mouthed kisses that made their teeth click together. While large deft hands worked his uniform off, confident like he’d done it a million times over.

The pang of jealousy at the idea of Ren sleeping with anyone but him is added to the ever growing pile of feelings he’s ignoring. Choosing instead to run his fingers through curly black locks and pulling . The motion forced a low groan out of Ren and a harsh bite on his bottom lip as he finally got Goro’s pants off.

Had his mind been clearer he probably would’ve made some snide comment about Ren's staring. Or at least had the shame to close his legs, but he didn’t. Goro basked eagerly in the undivided attention of the mastermind currently unbuttoning his jacket and kissing him stupid.

Once his jacket was off Ren's attention shifted from his lips to his chest, humming as he bit a series of marks into the supple skin of his chest. One hand firmly on Goro’s hip and the other sliding lazily up and down his side. 

God, he was needy. His nude body splayed out on Ren's futon, eager for whatever he had planned.

What he didn’t expect was for Ren to shift, pulling Goro’s hips to the edge of his makeshift bed and settling to his knees on the floor between Goro’s thighs. For a brief, horrifying moment, Ren dropped all physical contact with Goro. The brunettes mind reeling with what that meant for him in his current position, unsure of where his clothes are and agonizingly horny.

Ren's tongue pressed firmly against his hole made him jolt, but unpleasantly cold hands on his thighs held him down and prevented his sharp movement from interrupting Ren's eager licking. It was strange, but not unpleasant, and Goro found his  body arching into every lap of his tongue. At some point the raven haired man’s fingers replaced his tongue and Ren moved back up to face him, peppering soft kisses on skin as he made his way back to Goro’s lips. 

It was no surprise to him that Ren was amazing with his hands. He’d never admit it, but during their heist in Sae’s palace he had spent a not insignificant amount of time watching the man play with his dagger, twirling the blade effortlessly between hands clad in fiery red gloves. Even more time spent alone in his apartment with his hand shoved between his thighs, desperate for Ren's hands to replace his own.

Having them was everything he had hoped it to be, lithe strong hands more befitting a musician than a thief. Pushing and stretching in all the best ways, little gold stars dancing in Goro’s vision as Ren moved his hands, carefully working him open and preparing him for something more.

Goro reveled in the feeling of Ren's skin against his own. Wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling Ren down to be flush against him, whining as he pushed his hips up, eager to finally be fucked in the way he’d been craving since before he’d entered the cafe this morning.

The realization that he’d been desperate for Ren even before the aphrodisiac rattled in his brain as Ren pulled away, removing his fingers from Goro and retrieving a bottle of lube left on the floor that Goro had been too lost in the feeling of Ren's hands to notice. 

Goro’s body accepted Ren like that’s what it was made to do. While the awkward angle of his hips would make him sore eventually, for now he didn’t care. Clinging to Ren as he bottomed out, hips pressed flush against his own Goro just about sobbed. He had been waiting for this consciously since 8 this morning, and subconsciously for as long as he’d known Ren. It was everything he had hoped it to be, Ren was so warm against him and in him, the raven haired man despite not being physically larger swallowed him whole and at the moment he was living for it.

Ren’s voice, gently asking if he was okay and saying something about how he’d gone quiet lulled him out of his thoughts, Goro nodded eagerly and pulled Ren close again, gasping at how the movement shifted them and somehow pushed Ren even deeper into him. Goro was barely able to whine out a confirmation, his voice thoroughly lost to him. The feeble noise drawing a low chuckle out of Ren as he began to rock his hips gently against Goro’s, the movement was overwhelmingly good yet still somehow not enough. The last shreds of his pride forcing Goro’s mouth shut, not allowing him to start begging immediately. Sure he’s been practically drooling over the idea of Ren’s dick being anywhere near him for the past 7 or so hours, but Ren didn’t need to know that.

His unconscious whining told Ren of his desperation though, and with a saccharine smile Ren picked up his pace, savoring each honeyed moan and whine that bubbled out of Goro’s chest. His dull nails left behind faint red stripes in the skin of Ren's shoulders as Goro fell further into it all, sweet noises morphing into desperate pleas for more as Ren pulled him apart at the seams. Said raven haired man making a point of keeping his own voice down so he could fully enjoy Goro’s sounds and the sharp slap of his thighs on the other mans as it echoed through the attic.

Goro’s mind swam, maybe it was whatever that shit Ren put in his coffee, maybe it was his own desperation. But between Ren’s harsh thrusts and the heady groans that kept falling from his lips it was hard not to wail and cling to Ren. He really didn’t want to seem like some kind of slut but god he was living for Ren’s attention and everything in his body screamed for more. He so badly wanted Ren to be more aggressive, the restraint was obvious in his gentle but quick movements paired with a bruisingly tight grip on his hips.

Before he was fully conscious of the thought the words fell from Goro’s lips, his voice low and harsh. Hoarse from moaning he hadn’t realized he’d been doing.

“For the love of god if you don’t fuck me harder I’m going to push you off me and do it myself.”

The silence was palpable as Ren stopped dead, the heaving of his chest being the only remaining motion.

Shit.

Before he could open his mouth to apologize Ren shifted, looking up at him through sweat slicked bangs, his expression completely flat as he searched Goro’s eyes. The always stunning crimson eyes peering back at him through sticky strands of ashy brown hair clouded with lust and somewhere, deep inside them, something much sweeter.

After a moment of silence Ren smiled, though it was more characteristically akin to Joker’s smirk, the pointed smile given only to formidable opponents he was about to destroy with terrifying ease. The idea of Ren destroying him made Goro’s face warm in a strange sort of way that he wasn’t entirely sure could be attributed to the fact that Ren was in fact still balls deep in him and grinning like a madman.

“Are you absolutely sure that's what you want?”

Goro didn’t say anything, he just nodded and ran his fingers through Ren's hair, pulling him closer and hoping to himself that it would be enough confirmation that Ren would finally start moving again. As much as he loved the feeling of cockwarming Ren he was beyond desperate and had finally let go of his last bits of his pride.

Based on how Ren sunk his teeth into the soft skin of his shoulder, the answer is yes, that was in fact confirmation enough, adjusting his grip on Goro’s hips before sliding back. Leaving him with only the flushed head of his cock pressed inside him, before snapping his hips forward. Ripping a strangled gasp from Goro as Ren set a pace harsh enough to bruise. Goro’s gasps morphed quickly into broken wailing as he eagerly accepted Ren’s violent thrusts, the haze filling his mind dissipating only to be replaced with a visceral need for more.

So, he begged. Barely lucid and sobbing into Ren’s shoulder he screeched out another plea for more, Ren only replying by biting down harder as he railed Goro into the futon. Goro came almost embarrassingly quickly after that, biting his hand in an attempt to stifle the sharp cry of the raven haired man’s name as he painted his chest and belly with streaks of white, though Ren didn’t slow down at all. Fucking Goro into oversensitivity quickly as his screaming evolved into incoherent babbling as Ren used him mercilessly.

The time from then until when Ren emptied himself into Goro was a blur to Goro, with him being thoroughly overstimulated and beyond exhausted he barely registered that Ren was still going until he felt Ren let go of his shoulder and instead dug his teeth into the soft skin of Goro’s neck as his hips stuttered. 

–

The sheer terror of waking up to the smell of curry was not exactly something he had anticipated. His apartment rarely smelt of anything other than cleaning products, so the pleasantly savory smell of sauteed vegetables and spices was jarring to begin with. But upon shooting out of bed only to find himself in leblanc the horror was multiplied tenfold, with his clothes nor his phone anywhere to be found he couldn’t reasonably leave the futon he was sat on, on the off chance the sun was down because it was the evening and leblanc was still open enough to keep him sat on the edge of the futon, wrapped tightly in Ren’s single dusty blanket.

A few minutes of unpleasant silence later Ren made his way up the stairs, a generous plate of curry in one hand, and Goro’s uniform folded neatly in his other.

“You passed out right after you came so I made you some food… Oh and your uniform was covered in dust so I tossed it in the wash.”

Ren smiled sweetly, the act made Goro want to die. Not only did he lose, he now had Ren doting on him like an eager wife and he was enjoying it a lot.

“I suppose that’s the least you could do for me after being so aggressive with me that I literally passed out.” Goro replied with his usual sneer, though it was clear that it was half-assed. Carefully accepting both the plate of food, and his clothing, Ren loomed for a moment after handing him his things. 

“Do you-” Ren cut him off by placing a chaste kiss on Goro’s forehead, before turning on a dime, and in an uncharacteristic moment of cowardice, literally sprinting down the stairs, audibly tripping as he reached the bottom.

If he had any say in the matter Goro would never be seen in Leblanc ever again.

Alas, coherent thought and Ren's existence in his life never went hand in hand.

[nrrrdgrrrl2002]

Haven’t had a chance to see the movie yet but I think I might bring back this “Game Abby au” idea I had a while back,

It’s nothin too crazy

Just a “what if Abby was a character in the games?” And an opportunity to slightly rewrite the fnaf games into something I find more coherent and interesting

So here’s a lil Abby timeline and some fun facts about her in my au!

1983/FNAF 4- Abby is only a few months old by the time the events of this game happens.

William and mrs Afton are currently starting to go through a divorce so mrs Afton currently has Elizabeth and Abby with her while Michael and crying child are staying with William.

Imma say Michael is 12 and Elizabeth and crying child are 8 (I’m making them twins here) at this point

So I’d probably have Elizabeth be 10-11 when she gets scooped a couple years later

(Skipping fnaf 2 since it ain’t relevant here)

1990/FNAF 1-so Abby is now 7 and Michael is 19. Mrs Afton ended up “passing away” so Mike took Abby in as soon as he turned 18 to keep her away from William,

Succeeding in doing so since William was under investigation (but never arrested unfortunately)

So he takes the pizzeria job cause it was the only place in their small town that would take him, everyone else not trusting him after everything that’s happened with the Afton family.

Just like the movie he takes Abby with her.

After five nights of trying to survive, Abby ends up developing a bond with the animatronics, so they mellow out with the whole trying to kill mike thing,

Allowing Abby and mike the opportunity to find out some odd things about these seemingly living animatronics.

They eventually figure out the animatronics are possessed by the kids who went missing years ago, causing mike to become more suspicious of his father than ever.

Abby becomes close friends with the animatronics for about 3 years. Until the pizzeria needs to be closed down for good.

Mike manages to find out that the animatronics were dismantled for some reason and now the kid’s spirits have nothing to possess but are still unable to move on.

This prompts him and Abby to start really looking into what happened to these kids to help them move on, the kids haunting Abby to keep themselves tethered to this realm until they can properly move on.

Giving mike more motive to help them so Abby won’t be haunted for the rest of her life and possibly even deemed insane by others.

1995/Sister Location- Abby is now 12 and Michael is 24.

Abby is still being haunted by the missing kids and mikes still looking into what happened.

He ends up finding an old note from his dad, who’s been missing for two years, telling him that if anything happens to him, to go to the circus babys rental bunker

Michael goes by himself this time, seeing Abby as old enough to be able to be left alone, so she doesn’t get much to do.

That is, until after everything in sister location happens.

Instead of ennard leaving of their own accord due to mikes body becoming too rotten, Abby realizes after a few days of living with possessed mike that this isn’t quite Michael.

So, with the missing kids help, she manages to force ennard out of Michael, even getting herself pretty badly hurt from this due to ennard trying to take her body next.

After some recovery time in the hospital, she manages to reunite with a corpse Michael.

Michael is not doing well at all with the whole being turned into a zombie thing. Abby accepts it and tries to help him through it, but it’s a lot for both of them and strains their relationship.

They even lose contact with each other when Abby moves out for college, Michael thinking she’ll have a better chance to live her life if he’s not in it.

This also pretty much postponed the investigation into what happened to the missing kids. The ghost kids and Abby have gotten very used to each other so they’re not pushing to find a way for the ghost kids to move on.

Mikes still worried about it since it constantly looks like Abby’s talking to herself, but he still thinks it’s better than him staying with her to help the ghost kids

2013/FNAF 3- ok so Williams only locked away for 20 years instead of 30 in this. This is when i really start f••king with the timeline.

So Abby has been trying to live her life, even with the whole ghost kids haunting thing. But she’s still looking into what happened to them to try to find their killer (who they don’t know the identity of)

Then fazbear frights opens, which the ghost kids have a strong feeling could be the solution to their problem.

So Abby takes a night guard job there and finally gets to meet her father, who she didn’t get to interact with much as a kid

She doesn’t recognize him, but he recognizes her due to her having his eyes.

So he tries to lure “his little princess” out of her office and convince her to help him, scaring the hell outta her in the process.

Abby and the ghost kids manage to figure out that this isn’t just their killer, but Abby’s father,

Leaving Abby with the difficult decision of killing her father, who she holds in high regards since she didn’t know him that well, to save her best friends of over 20 years.

The two have a pretty brutal brawl, Abby needing to be saved by the puppet, who’s been seeking out William for years.

Abby lights the place on fire and barely manages to escape in time.

The puppet takes the ghost kids to guide them to the other side, their souls now finally able to rest

Abby is sad to see her friends go, but grateful that their no longer in pain, now allowing her the chance to fully move on as well

Until…

2014/Pizzeria Sim- William managed to survive but Henry, now out of prison due to being blamed for Williams crimes, sets out to take em out once and for all.

Gaining the aid of Michael Afton, who’s been hiding away from the world for decades, but also aiding a detective and former employee of Freddy fazbears, Jeremy Fitzgerald, with strange cases relating to Freddy fazbears

Things go pretty much the same way they do as canon,

But ending with Jeremy finding Abby and trying to get her and him to the pizzeria after Jeremy discovers Henry’s plan and realizes michael is in danger,

Not knowing that Henry plans to trap michael there as well to burn away everything

But they get there too late and the place is already burning down, leaving michael dead and Abby grieving.

Abby ends up getting ownership of the fazbear brand due to literally everyone else who could get it being dead

And instead of abandoning it, she decides she wants to use the opportunity to make something good out of this brand of tragedy

Leading into

(Also skipping help wanted)

2023/Security Breach- Abby is the ceo of fazbear entertainment and trying to run the place as well as she can at 40 years old.

Still mourning her brothers loss but otherwise happy with her life

What she doesn’t know but will get to discover is that michael is still around

Now possessing a certain very friendly, very odd, orange bear robot…

Now for fun facts about Abby!

•she was a grunge kid in her tweens-teens

•she met a girl named Jessica in college who eventually became her wife

•she didn’t get to see her father much due to her mom and then her brother wanting distance from him

•her father, when he did see her, referred to her as “his little princess” after a children’s book he’d read to her called “princess quest”

•she didn’t get to know crying child (or Evan in this) until she met him at Freddy fazbears possessing golden Freddy

•she didn’t get to meet Elizabeth until her soul briefly pleaded to her for help as she was fighting ennard. To this day, she’s still unsure if Elizabeth was simply tricking her or genuinely needed her help and it still bothers her.

That’s about all I got for now folks!

[overanalysingfandoms]

It's Third Life/Scarian Robin Hood AU time!!!!!

If you want context, I've already posted quite a bit about this au

I should really make a masterpost

Anyway, I've had some ✨️thoughts✨️

Prince Grian is well known in the castle for enjoying going out on walks unaccompanied unless it's by his handmaidens Pearl and Lizzie, no guards are allowed on his private strolls

He says they give him some peace and time to think outside of the chaos of the castle and tends to go on more of them during stressful times, often in a crisis if he is needed he can't be found because he's gone on a walk at the worst possible time with his handmaidens

They're just something those in the castle accept as an oddity of their Prince

In reality, there is nothing relaxing about these 'walks' as they're merely an excuse Grian uses to go and visit Scar and either spend time with him, or warn him of the Red King's plans in a time of crisis, especially if Good Times is in danger

The walks started when Ren first devised a plan to capture Good Times and Grian claimed he needed some 'fresh air to calm his nerves' before such a special mission was carried out (depsite the fact his role in the plan was to stand by Ren's side and watch). As soon as he was out of view of the Castle, Grian immediately sprinted to Magic Mountain to warn Scar and the rest of The Resistance. He showed up out of nowhere, with Pearl and Lizzie on his tail, blabbering about Scar being in danger and the King trying to capture him and making no sense. It took Scar taking Grian to the side and doing breathing exercises with him to calm the Prince down enough to explain coherently while Pearl and Lizzie caught the rest of The Resistance up on the problem. Together they then sat down and formulated a plan which succeeded in preventing Good Times' capture.

From then on Grian would use the same tactic to warn Scar whenever Ren and Martyn were plotting. Prior to this The Resistance and their spies had to rely on 'chance encounters', hidden notes and safe houses but with this new tactic they were able to meet up far more frequently.

Ren of course was initially on edge about sending Grian out of Dogwarts' walls unguarded but Grian argued he had his handmaidens, combat training and constantly being surrounded by guards is suffocating. And the more Grian went on his walks the more ok with it Ren became.

Grian, of course, begins to visit Magical Mountain more and more frequently with worse and worse excuses that nobody questions because they all know he's just coming to spend time with Scar. The only one who doesn't realise this is Scar himself who wouldn't dare question the excuses lest he give up his chance to flirt with his handsome prince.

So yeah, feel free to send in an ask, I'm always happy to rave about this idea

[scotianostra]

On  Wednesday 28th January 1829, the notorious William Burke was hanged in Edinburgh.

He and his accomplice William Hare, who escaped the death penalty by turning King’s ­Evidence against Burke, were caught murdering people in the city and selling the cadavers to ­anatomist Robert Knox.

The hanging took place in Edinburgh at Libberton’s Wynd, this street ran from High Street/Lawnmarket down to Cowgate, roughly where the East pavement of George IV Bridge is now.

Below is the story The Scotsman ran about the execution

Pursuant to sentence passed in the High Court of Justiciary, Burke this morning suffered the last sentence of the law, at the common place of execution, head of Libberton’s Wynd.

From the hour in which he heard that his associate Hare was to be admitted an evidence against him, he abandoned all hopes of acquittal, and resigned himself to his awful fate. When consigned to the silence and solitude of his cell, he eagerly availed himself of the consolations of religion and sedulously ­prepared for the awful change he was soon to undergo. Sincerely anxious to hear of the premises of pardon and acceptance which the gospel holds out to the contrite and repentant sinner, on one occasion when a Catholic Priest and the Rev. Mr Marshall arrived at once at the jail, he exclaimed “admit them both”.

In a short time, however, he ­dispensed with the visits of Mr ­Marshall, and resolved to die ­professing the faith of his ­forefathers. Thought he talked ­freely over his murders at all time, he spent much of his time in reading such books as were left by his ­spiritual instructors, and in deep and serious meditation.

Heavily manacled as he was, and confined to the murderer’s diet – bread and water – he uniformly manifested an astonishing ­calmness and contentment. One gentleman, by whom he was visited, remarked that his cell was very cold, “Yes, yes,” he promptly replied, “but since matters have come to this, I must just bear it all.”

Though dreadfully afflicted by an excruciating disease and tormented by the approach of an ignominious death, he acted with deliberation; and talked with perfect coherence.

Shortly after eight o’clock, the procession set out for the place of execution. Bailies Crichton and Small, with a party of town officers, first ascended the scaffold and they were followed by Burke, supported by two Catholic Clergymen. He was dressed in decent black clothes, and was perfectly firm and ­composed. The moment he appeared the crowd set up an appalling shout, which continued for several ­minutes. The murderer and the Catholic clergymen knelt down and spent a few minutes in ­devotion. During the time a deep silence ­prevailed among the assemblage, but the devotions were ­succeeded by vehement cheering from every quarter, mingled with groans and hisses. When the cheers had subsided, the wretched man was assailed with every epithet of contempt and abhorrence.

As soon as the executioner ­proceeded to do his duty, the cries of “Burke him, Burke him, give him no rope,” and many others of a similar complexion, were vociferated in voices loud with indignation. Burke in the meantime, stood ­perfectly unmoved, and gazed around till the cap was drawn over his face, and shut the world forever from his view.

The executioner having completed his preparations and placed the signal in Burke’s hand, the magistrates ministers, and attendants left the scaffold. The crowd again set up another long and loud cheer, which was followed by cries for “Hare, Hare, where is Hare.” Burke lifted his hands and ejaculated a prayer of a few sentences then dropped the napkin and momently the drop fell.

The struggle was neither long nor apparently severe, but at every ­convulsive motion, a loud huzza arose from the multitude, which was several times repeated after the last agonies of humanity were past.

[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

Four months in, I’m having a lot of frustrations with the quality of work of my supervisee. I hired her believing that she was a good writer, and she’s just...not delivering. There has not been a single writing-based project I’ve given her that I’ve been mostly happy with on the 1st draft. And I think I’m finally figuring out what the issue is. I saw a LOT of samples of her writing before I hired her, so it wasn’t like I went in blindly trusting that she was a good writer because she said so. I thought I’d seen work that demonstrated that fact. But what I’m realizing is that while her grammar and punctuation and vocabulary are good - which was in stark contrast to any other applicant, sadly - she doesn’t really understand how to structure concepts well, tie things together, or often even put the emphasis on the right ideas. I think I was blinded by her grammatically coherent sentences, plus the fact that I didn’t necessarily know what she was trying to accomplish with some of those outside pieces, so I couldn’t necessarily tell whether she succeeded at it.

Like, the other day she was given something that my boss’s boss wrote and told to proofread it and tie up the last paragraph a bit better. The last paragraph that he gave her was structured statement, question, question, question. The first draft she sent me, she’d made it into statement, another statement that didn’t add anything meaningful, another statement that didn’t add anything meaningful, question, question, question, statement that put the emphasis on the completely wrong thing. I told her to take out the superfluous sentences and instructed her to change the last sentence to something that would emphasize the correct concept. She came back with a sentence that was maybe even less accurate to the desired message, which included the phrase “spinning the narrative.” I told her that spinning the narrative really doesn’t have a very good connotation, and also isn’t even the concept being discussed. She then told me that “he was talking about stories earlier in the text, so I was trying to tie it together conceptually.”

The word “story” appeared 1 place earlier in the text. Basically in passing. I had to look back to find it, because it wasn’t memorable at all. It was not a theme within the text. This was not a text about stories. Besides which, “telling a story” and “spinning the narrative” have wildly different implications.

And anyway, it was just so obvious to me what needed to be tied together here: statement, question, question, question, statement tying together all the questions. And I don’t really get how she didn’t understand that? Like, you see a text that just abruptly ends after asking 3 questions on a topic, and your thought is to write a sentence that ties back to a random, casually-used word way further up in the text? How does that make sense?

I have very high standards for writing, and I know that. But I feel like I should be able to expect more than this. At this point I dread giving her any writing projects because it feels easier to just do it myself than to let her do it and then have to coach her through (sometimes over several drafts) to something semi-acceptable to me.

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

Should I read the last unicorn? I saw part of the movie and was not enthralled, but I've heard the book is better??

ESTEEMED DOCTOR HOLLIGAY PLEASE DO READ THIS BOOK

I haven't pitched it via your submission form bc I know you're not interested in fantasy and I wanted to pitch something I was at least even a little more confident might be up your alley haha, but I would genuinely be SO interested in your thoughts on the book. TLU is something I would consider a foundational piece in terms of stories that shaped my tastes (so take that as you will) and Beagle is probably my favorite living author. I love the movie dearly but it cuts a LOT from the book and, I think, loses a lot of the nuance in doing so; it lingers at the surface level much more than the book does. (I don't know how much is allowed re: spoilers and given the nature of my blog you've almost definitely seen me crying about my absolute least favorite book-to-movie change anyway but I will restrain myself here all the same lol.) (SUFFICE TO SAY SOME THINGS I CONSIDER CRUCIAL ARE LEFT OUT)

If I were to pitch it, I would want to highlight the genre awareness of it as something in particular that might interest you: the characters acknowledge a number of times that they are acting out a fairytale, and what roles they play, and what it means to play those roles. There are also, constantly, really thought-provoking questions being implicitly asked by the narrative. What does it mean to be "real" or "beautiful"? Can someone be mythologized simply by writing themselves into folklore? What kind of sacrifices are acceptable to ensure one's continued comfort and happiness? and so on and so forth.

It's silly! (I have to emphasize there are some truly silly things that happen in this book! It makes me laugh, but also there are details that hint at a larger world that just... don't get explained!) It's serious! It's a complicated, thoughtful book, with SO much more depth than an animated movie could manage to fit into a standard runtime. I recognize that I am biased and acknowledge this as a potential judgment-clouding factor, but I really think even if you end up coming away from it with no particular interest in revisiting it that there are at least a few moments and themes that you'll appreciate.

Also the unicorn is, like, kind of a terrible person, which the movie totally glosses over, but I think you'd enjoy that she has this very self-centered and kind of disdainful "I'm a noble beautiful creature and better than all of you" vibe lol.

ANYWAY IF YOU DO DECIDE TO READ IT I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS I'm a little insane about this book. This post is so long and took me like an hour to write bc I'm trying to passionately but coherently explain without going into too much detail hfjdkgs. Hopefully I have succeeded!!

[thebreakfastgenie]

I get your recent post but struggling with accepting that there was anything good (like friendship or love) that came out of the war is also very much a theme in mash, especially in gfa

Yeah so in the longer, less coherent version of that post in my head, I also talk about how MASH undermines its own message by staying on for eleven years. And like, it's okay. I'm okay with it. But I think if you look at the original core message of MASH at the beginning, the idea of good coming out of the war is not there. I mean, in The Interview, Potter, one of the career military characters, is asked if he sees any good coming out of the war and says "not a damn thing." I think the cast's feelings as well as the audience's feelings are necessarily projected onto the characters after that long, and we're just attached to them and see their friendships as good, because our circumstance is watching them on TV. Not, you know, actually being in a war.

But even so, I think if you asked Hawkeye if he'd trade the friendships he made during the war to make it so the war never happened, he would not hesitate to say yes. Of course, you can't say yes, that's a dumb hypothetical, so what you get back to is these relationships that formed under horrible circumstances because that's life. But GFA still shows them all going their separate ways as the happy ending. I think it's notable that MASH doesn't have Hawkeye particularly grow as result of the war. His morality is in place from the beginning. Sidney tells him maybe his own pain will help him understand his patients better, but that's it.

One of the things that all depictions of war struggle with, including openly anti-war ones like MASH, is not showing it as good. If you want to show an individual character's development and you show them succeeding in life after the war, someone in your audience is going to decide it's because of the war. MASH does get into this somewhat and while I don't blame the show for it or necessarily think it's avoidable, I do think it's important to be aware. Some people do become better people as the result of traumatic events, but you don't want to say those events are broadly worth it. Charles pretty clearly becomes a better person when he's confronted with real suffering and forced to empathize with people unlike him. But Charles was kind of a bad person to begin with. Margaret is similar; she's spent her entire life in the army and believing in it, and maybe the war gives her a different perspective. But she wasn't a great person in the beginning, either. Neither of those, in my opinion, is comparable to a narrative of discovering one's true self.

My issue is, fanfiction, especially if its romance, usually takes a love conquers all stance whether it means to or not. If your fic is about a man realizing he's gay while serving in the Korean War and understanding his sexuality is ultimately a positive development in his life, you are, whether you mean to or not, sending the message that the war was a good thing. A good thing for him, but when the story is about him, that means a good thing. Particularly when the focus is on the queer journey or love story, because the bulk of what the audience sees is then the good thing that came out of the war. I don't think that's comparable to GFA, which focuses quite a lot on the destruction.

And I don't think most fic writers looking for queer wish fulfillment particularly explore the nuances of feeling grateful for the effect an objectively horrific event had on the main character's personal life. And I'm not taking a moral position on whether they should or not, it's simply that I want nothing to do with those stories.